Alone Together
by Mooncombo
Summary: Navigating foreign territory is not a new concept to either of them. Unless, of course, they are navigating the holidays. Pure fluff with sprinkles and a cherry.


**This is pure fluff with sprinkles and a cherry. Enjoy!**

**Alone Together by Mooncombo**

* * *

The frosty morning temperatures leaking through the chilled glass failed to deter Tony from observing the scene unfolding beneath his window. Wrapping cold fingers around the warm coffee mug, he continued to watch the brunette climb out of her car parked in the lot, walk a few steps, change her mind and then scramble back behind the wheel.

Repeat.

Fifteen minutes and most of a cup of coffee later, Ziva still hadn't made it to the building. And damn it, he really could use another cup of coffee and the window wasn't getting any less cold. Releasing the breath he didn't realize he was holding, he pulled out his cell phone with a sigh.

"Tony," she breathed into his ear from the safe protective haven that was her vehicle.

"Get up here, Ziva."

And that was that.

* * *

He was waiting with the door open when she finally appeared, a bottle of wine in one hand and a box of cheap rainbow colored Christmas lights in the other.

At his raised eye brows, she explained, "it's Christmas, Tony."

"You don't celebrate Christmas."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to smack himself. A flutter of doubt danced across her features and for a moment and he watched her struggle not to spin around and bolt.

"Sorry," he said with a sheepish smile, the words tumbling softly between them. "I didn't mean it like that."

Gathering the wine and lights in one hand, he tugged her inside by the elbow with the other.

"So what brings you here?"

He knows the answer and he hopes that he doesn't appear too eager, like a boy waiting to see if Santa brought him exactly what was on his wish list.

"You are alone and I am alone," she said, lifting her stubborn chin just a notch. "It is Christmas, Tony. I think that we should be alone together."

A hundred teasing comments raced around his mind, but she is serious and he can't remember the last time anyone wanted to spend Christmas with him.

And really, in all honesty, he can't argue with her logic.

* * *

She goes to work haphazardly stringing the lone strand of colored lights in his window with duct tape that had been hiding in her coat pocket. He had to fight the urge to correct her Christmas light hanging methods, most notably the usage of sticky silver tape that will leave goo on his windows. The irony is not lost him that he doesn't really know proper light hanging procedure, either.

So instead, he merely stood beside her while she worked, getting a little too close and his fingers brushing her arm a little too often. In the end, Ziva's twinkling lights resembled a cousin of Charlie Brown's Christmas tree.

* * *

His kitchen is not really stocked for guests, but that's okay with Ziva. She found eggs and potatoes and settled in to work making them breakfast. He continues to hover around her, not really sure what his role might be in this domestic little scenario taking place in his kitchen.

Standing behind her while she dices potatoes, he has to fight the urge to wrap his arms around her waist. Instead, he drifts just that much closer, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and he is most certain that he was not imagining it when she leaned back into his space as well.

The quiet of the kitchen, save for Ziva's chopping, is comforting rather than awkward, something he has always appreciated about her.

She continued to work until finally, he leaned in just a little too close and she swayed backward at just that precise moment so that their bodies rested together. They both freeze and Tony sees her hand tremble for just a moment. And since Tony has always been one to press his luck - and today being Christmas made him all the more bold - he rested his hands lightly on her hips.

An infinite number of heartbeats passed before either of them moved. Her muscles bunched beneath his hands and he thinks for a horrifying moment that she might very well be considering severing his jugular. By degrees, he felt the tension roll off of her until she tentatively rested back against his chest allowing his warmth to seep into her body.

"Shall we watch a movie while we eat?" she murmured, just this side of breathless. His fingers tightened against her hips for a moment before he left her to pick out a collection of his favorite Christmas movies and he would swear that she shuddered just slightly when he let go of her.

* * *

"_Die Hard? _Die Hard is one of your favorite Christmas movies?"

"Don't judge, Ziva."

Neither of them made it to the end of the movie awake, anyway. Tony fell asleep at one end of the couch, quickly followed by Ziva on the other end, her toes tucked protectively beneath his thighs. The credits were rolling when Tony stirred, his hand resting on her calf. Finally, he opened his eyes to find Ziva staring at him from behind half closed lids. A ghost of a smile playing along her lips as she regarded him.

"So, what do we do next on Christmas?" she asked softly.

"We make popcorn and nap to another movie," he responded with a boyish grin and a yawn. "That's the beauty of Christmas, Ziva, you eat, watch movies and nap." His smile faded a little when he added, "at least that's what I do on Christmas."

* * *

They both managed to stay awake through the next feature, although Ziva insisted they open the bottle of wine before starting the third.

She dozed with her head on his lap and his fingers threading through her hair as the last movie came to an end. Twisting onto her back, she blinked up at him and the warm sleepy smile she threw his way made his throat close up and his breath catch.

"What happens next on Christmas?" she whispered as her eyes drifted shut once more. His hands were still on her head when he answered.

"We go to bed."

* * *

She followed closely behind him on the way to the bedroom. Claiming the far side of the bed as hers, she pulled off her jeans and slipped her hands under her shirt to unclasp her bra. Tony watched in utter fascination, and slight annoyance, as she climbed into his bed, semi undressed, and was already drifting off with her back to him before he could fully contemplate the ramifications of having Ziva David spend the night.

Stripping down to his boxers he followed her lead and settled himself on the opposite side of the bed, his back to her as well.

Later, it wouldn't be clear who made the first move - although Tony would claim Ziva did - but at some point in the middle of the night, things just happened. It was slow and sleepy and sweet and not at all how either of them expected it to happen. And when he eventually aligned their bodies just so, she smiled up at him and his heart stuttered for a moment before he finally slid inside of her.

Of all the ways he imagined they would end up having sex, he never expected it to feel like this. It was intense and caring and infinitely more intimate. Cupping his face with her hands as he stroked leisurely in and out of body, she didn't stop staring at him until the second she came. He followed shortly thereafter, collapsing heavily on top of her. He couldn't quite move just yet, but that was okay, she was not ready to let him go anyway.

Her fingers stroked a pattern along the skin of his back as she whispered against his ear, "Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"I think we should be alone together on New Year's, too."

"Absolutely."

* * *

**The end.**

Thank you for reading. Am I dating myself with the Charlie Brown Christmas Tree reference? ;)


End file.
